Chapter Text
“You have got to be joking!”
“Sorry, Russo. The over 50s aquarobics club have booked the pool for the rest of the year.”
Alessia is mature enough to resist the urge to point out that ‘over 50s’ was a completely redundant prefix in the previous statement. Instead, she looks pleadingly up to her coach.
“But Coach!” She starts, running hand loosely through her hair in exasperation. “Surely they don’t need all of the lanes.”
“Apparently they do, kid.” Coach Stevens shrugged in a way that was entirely unhelpful and infuriating.
“Well I -I can’t change the day I train. I’ve already got regular practice four times a week and classes and homework and I’ve got to- ”
“Listen,” A firm hand is planted on Alessia’s shoulder in an effort to cut her off mid-rant. “I know more than anyone how seriously you take swimming. All of the staff do, really we do. And so do your teammates. But please believe me when I tell you that four training sessions a week is plenty. You don’t need an extra slot. You’re already our strongest swimmer by a country mile!”
“If I want to be the best, I’m not gonna get there training like everyone else am I?” She says it with more bite than she had originally intended and finds herself grateful that her coach is a kind and gentle man.
“I understand, Alessia.” He says while removing his hand from the girls shoulder. “There are plenty of public swimming pools open all week long, I’m sure one of them will be open long enough for you to practice there.”
“A public pool? I’ll look like a right knob rocking up in full swim gear! And don’t even get me started on all the sticky teenagers.”
Ten minutes later, having been condemned for her language by an American who most definitely did not understand the meaning of the word ‘knob’ and reminded that she herself is also a ‘sticky teenager’ (even if she’s turning twenty in less than a month), Alessia finally gives in. She leaves her poor Coach to lock up UNC’s pool as she contemplates just how horrendous her upcoming trip to the local pool will be. Despite all of the worries that come with this disruption to her schedule, the swimmer is certain of one thing: she has to train for exactly an hour and a half from 5pm every Thursday. That is not up for debate.
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Lake Johnson Pool. That’s where Alessia will be carrying out her extra practice for the rest of the academic year, which is a relatively long time considering that January had only just ended.
Naturally, she drags a friend along to check it out for the very first time. So, Sarah (a quiet, ginger girl who she had met in her first year at the university) tagged along. They visit the pool the day before Thursday just in case it’s not up to Alessia’s apparently ‘ridiculous’ standards. Thankfully, for both her and Sarah’s sake, the pool is up to scratch and so the pair relax and go for a leisurely swim.
It’s actually nice, for a change, to not be swimming competitively but instead messing around with a friend. When a stray inflatable ball drifts towards her friend, the pair fall easily into a game of catch that stretches the width of the pool. Alessia thinks she might die of laughter when her throw hits Sarah directly on the forehead. Still, even with how much she was enjoying the rare chance for relaxation, the blonde finds herself scoping out the lanes she thinks would be the best to use tomorrow in the intervals between catches. The pool is comprised of lanes and a large open section, where most people (including herself today) go to enjoy themselves in the warm weather.
A more pressing issue is that Alessia is fairly sure that someone is watching her. She has felt eyes on her for pretty much the entirety of her time spent in the pool, but can not seem to find the culprit. Besides, everyone in the pool seems to be busy with their own games and conversations. So, Alessia does her best to ignore her senses and enjoy her last few minutes in the pool. It is not until she and Sarah have left the pool, dried off and gotten changed that Alessia sees the lifeguard.
She’s blonde with sharp features and a bored look on her face. Tanned arms cross over her slim figure, which is adorned with a stereotypical red one-piece swimming costume. Alessia knows as soon as she sees the girl on her spot atop one of those comically high lifeguard seats that it was her blue eyes that had been boring into her for the past hour.
The girl must have noticed Alessia gazing back at her by now, but she makes no effort to avert her eyes. Instead, a small smile forms on the her face as she brings her right hand up and gives Alessia a little wave.
Before she can even react to the gesture, Sarah grabs Alessia’s hand and drags her out of the facilities, chatting away about all the homework she has due the next day. Alessia knows better than to turn back and look at the blonde lifeguard. Something in the girls confident demeanour tells her it would be a bad idea.
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Thursday morning, Alessia is late to Lake Johnson Pool, which could not be more of a disaster. First of all, Alessia is not someone who likes to go off schedule: what’s the point of organising your whole day if you don’t follow said plans? And, secondly, she had originally timed it so that she would finish her swim just as the pool closed. Now, she wouldn’t even have enough time to do a full session. At first, Alessia is so distraught by the change in plans that she considers abandoning her extra session for the week and just going back to her dorm and studying. Then, she tells herself that an hours training is better than no training and rushes to get into the pool.
Looking at the lanes draws a disappointed sigh from the swimmer -they are much smaller than they had appeared yesterday. Eventually, she settles on the third lane as it looks the closest to her lane in the uni pool and gets to work immediately.
Alessia has just finished her seventieth lap when she decides to have a small breather. Looking around, she soon realises that she is the only person left in the pool.
“Alright there?” An unmistakably London accent cuts through the silence.
“You’re English?” Alessia blurts out as she cranes her neck up to look at the lifeguard from yesterday, who is standing almost directly above her.
“Hello to you too.”
“Sorry. I was just surprised.” It’s said in a curt enough tone to discourage any further conversation but the lifeguard doesn’t seem to take any notice of that (or does and chooses to ignore it).
“No worries. I’m Leah by the way.” The other girl crouches down to offer her hand to Alessia, who takes it and gives it a short shake.
“Listen, Leah, I’m sure you’re lovely-”
“Oh, I am.”
“-but, I’ve got thirty more laps to do before six thirty. So if you wouldn’t mind…”
The laugh that sounds through the empty surroundings sends a warm tingling through Alessia. When she is unsure of what to do with the sensation, she feels her blood heat with anger at the confusion.
“Are you just gonna stand there and watch me?”
“I mean I don’t have much else to do,” Leah glances down at the barren pool to demonstrate her point. “But I suppose I could give you some space, if you promise to talk to me once you’ve done your thirty laps?”
“I don’t get why you’re so eager to talk to me, but fine.” This girl was seriously starting to irritate Alessia.
Leah only grins in response, flashing shallow dimples and white teeth.
So, Alessia gets back to her laps. She glides through the water with ease, relishing in the feeling of weightlessness and elegance that her sport so often gave her.
Despite her peaceful trance, Alessia can’t help but take notice of the pair of blue eyes that, despite her previous request, have not left her. Leah clearly doesn’t understand what it means to give someone space but, now that Alessia has slightly calmed down, she realises she can’t blame the girl for watching. If she was working as a lifeguard for an all but empty pool, she’d be bored enough to stare at whoever was left in the pool too.
It’s this line reasoning (and definitely nothing to do with the warm tingling sensation from before) that persuades Alessia to be slightly less hostile as Leah walks towards her for the second time, her toned skin glowing in the light of the setting sun.
“I counted a hundred. Am I permitted to approach?”
“If you wish.” Alessia positions herself so that her arms reach out of the pool to hold her body up, far too tired to tread water.
“Take this.” A medium sized water bottle is thrust into her hands.
“Thanks. I do have my own water, though.” Alessia seems to be uncharacteristically incapable of politeness around this girl and she has no idea why.
“Mine’s better.”
“Is it now?”
A sarcastic nod and an expectant look later, Alessia is struggling to pry open her present.
“Here -let me,” Leah’s dry hands open it with ease and a pleased smile blooms on her face. “Look at that! I’m stronger than a competitive swimmer.”
For the first time that evening, Alessia laughs, unable to accept the use of the word strong and the sight of Leah’s slender arms and legs together.
“What’s funny?” The grin that accompanies the words is playful and almost flirty.
“Nothing, it’s just -I’m not sure that strong is first word I’d use to describe you.”
Leah mocks confusion theatrically enough to draw another laugh from Alessia, though this one is more of a giggle.
Suddenly, a thought crosses her mind. “How do you know I’m a competitive swimmer?”
“I don’t think many people our age would choose to spend their Thursday afternoon doing laps.”
“Right.” Alessia grabs onto the edge of the pool and pushes herself out of the water easily.
“You’re strong.” Leah states, almost to herself, with an unreadable expression on her face.
“Well I am a competitive swimmer.” Alessia quips as she walks away to grab her towel, this time absolutely certain of the eyes on her.
Maybe practice at the public pool wouldn’t be so bad.